Harry Potter and the Betrayal
by Proud Mudblood
Summary: Used to be Prisonerrs and Tournaments. What would happen if Harry was there when Hermione woke up after being petrified, and they became a couple? A better summary and a challenge inside!
1. His Petrified Heart

**Description of the Story:**

Instead of being in the Great Hall, Harry is in the Hospital Wing waiting for Hermione to be awakened from petrification. Because of the relative solitude, Hermione gathers her courage and gives him kiss, and they become a couple.

**Challenges:**

~Ron gets jealous  
~Ginny is disheartened, but accepts it and moves on  
~Ron must refer to Hermione as a "practice girlfriend" and get pummelled by Harry  
~The story must go through at least third and fourth years  
~Hermione must find that Harry can get emancipated before third year and gain the title Lord Potter  
~Using his status as Lord Potter, Harry must get Sirius free at the end of third year, during the summer  
~Harry must still live at the Dursleys, but Sirius joins him  
~Sirius becomes the new Defense Professor, but Harry still must be entered in the Tri-Wizard Tournament and portkeyed to the graveyard  
~When Wormtail cuts him, Harry must say, "I willingly give my blood." How this affects the ritual is up to you.  
~Everything else is up to you!

**On to the story!**

* * *

Harry was sitting beside Hermione, like he'd done every day since she'd been petrified. But today was different. Today, Hermione was finally being unpetrified. It had really only occurred to him when Hermione had been petrified just how important she had become to him. Sure, she helped him with schoolwork, but that wasn't what he meant. All those people who didn't know him stared at him like either a villain or a hero, depending on the day. Ron was alright, but if Harry was honest with himself, the redhead had jealousy issues he really needed to work on. But Hermione had never been that way. Even with their original meeting on the train, she had merely commented on the fact that she had read about him. Considering she was probably done with the coursework for third year, and read nearly half of the library, it wasn't really a surprise. Whether he liked it or not, Harry knew that, as the Boy-Who-Lived, books were going to be written about him.

His musings were interrupted by Madame Pomfrey bustling over holding a vial. "Is that it?" Harry asked excitedly, nodding toward the potion.

Madame Pomfrey nodded and headed towards Hermione, before she hesitated and decided on something else. "Mr. Potter, would you like to be the one to revive your friend?" She asked the young boy. Harry beamed and nodded. _Those two are going to be more than friends soon,_ the healer thought with a fond smile. "Alright, here's what I need you to do; pour a little bit of the potion into her mouth at a time, and then massage her throat. Once you have all the potion down her throat, you'll need to pick her up so that the potion can work its way down to her stomach. Do you think you can do that?" She asked the eager boy. At his serious nod, she handed him the potion and made to go get another vial, careful to make sure she could continue to see him.

Very carefully, Harry gently tipped the vial so that a little less than a teaspoonful went into her mouth. Setting the vial on the bedside table, he gently massaged her throat for a few seconds, before checking to make sure the potion had gone down her throat. Seeing that it hadn't, he massaged her throat some more, this time watching. Once the potion was no longer in her mouth, he repeated the process with the next five portions of potion. After he finished massaging her throat for the last time, Harry attempted to lift her up. Unfortunately, he quickly realized that he didn't have the necessary strength. Frowning in thought, he realized he could use the same spell as Ron had on the troll during their first year. "Wingardium Leviosa," Harry said, pointing his wand at the form of his friend. He gently maneuvered her so that her back was to him before releasing the spell, and letting her lean back against him. Pocketing his wand, Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione and waited for her to wake, idly noticing that he enjoyed the close contact with her.

As Poppy Pomfrey headed towards her second patient, she pondered the boy known as Harry Potter. She knew from having him as patient that he had very little patience, but after witnessing how slowly and caringly he had administered the potions to Miss Granger, she would be hard pressed to believe it otherwise. The level of maturity that twelve-year-old possessed was extremely impressive, but, from what her medical scans had shown her, she had to wonder if the reasons for that maturity were the same as for the marks on his back.

Pushing that thought away for now, she turned to contemplating the effectiveness of his levitation charm. She'd never seen someone so young use such a simple spell to the level Harry just had, and the boy didn't even look tired!_ Just how powerful is the Boy-Who Lived? _Madame Pomfrey wondered as she got the last of the potion into Mr. Creevey and propped him upright.

As she moved over to Justin, she wondered about the last two petrified victims: Mrs. Norris and Nearly-Headless Nick. She knew Mrs. Norris would be the first one to be unpetrified, but it was Nick she was wondering about. How do you get a potion to a ghost? She couldn't even open his mouth! Her current hope was that she could just pour the potion on top of him, since it would go right through him.

As Madame Pomfrey finished up on Justin, Harry was carefully monitoring Hermione. He noticed that she seemed to be a little looser; both of her arms had lowered slightly, and she seemed to be leaning into him a little more comfortably. He could even feel her pulse, which, even though very slow, relieved him greatly. He knew she was only petrified, but the thought of Hermione with no pulse scared him anyway, which brought his thoughts back to how important she was to him. Just this year, she'd created a polyjuice potion to confirm that it wasn't Draco Malfoy who was the cause of the problems, and she had solved the mystery of what the creature in the Chamber was. When it had come to light that he was a parseltongue, she had stood by him, not believing for a moment that Harry was evil. Ron had tried to hide it, but Harry had seen that the redhead was, in fact, scared of him. Upon seeing his best mate's expression, Harry realized it didn't hurt as much as it would have last year; Hermione had replaced Ron as the most important person in his life. Now she just had to wake up so he could tell her.

As Madame Pomfrey made her way over to her last petrified patient, she glanced over at Harry and Hermione again. She smiled as she saw that Harry's arms were around the girl's waist with his head resting on her shoulder. With Hermione's hand raised the way it was, it looked like she was going to move it to place it on his cheek, reminding the healer of many loving couples she had seen. If Minerva were there, she would have placed a bet that the two would be a couple before they even left the hospital wing. She smiled as she climbed onto a bed by Sir Nicholas and poured the potion over him. To her surprise, the ghost immediately came awake.

"What am I doing here?" He asked, looking around at the propped up petrified people.

"You were petrified, Sir Nicholas," Madame Pomfrey informed him, too professional to let her shock show through.

"What spell can petrify a ghost?" He asked disbelievingly.

"It wasn't a spell," Harry chimed in. "It was a sixty-foot basilisk."

"Sixty-foot?" The healer asked, horrified at what the boy had to face.

"What was a basilisk doing in the school?" Nick asked at the same time.

"Yes, sixty-foot, and it was in the Chamber of Secrets," Harry answered them both.

"So there really is a Chamber, then?" Nick asked curious. Before anyone could answer, he asked, "Wait a minute, what's today?"

"Yes, there really is a Chamber," Pomfrey answered for Harry, "And it is Sunday, May, 30."

"What happened to the basilisk?" He asked, not responding to the information he had asked for.

"Mr. Potter stabbed it with the Sword of Gryffindor," Madame Pomfrey answered. "Now, if you will," she said, gesturing towards the door. "You have taken up enough time in my Hospital Wing."

"Good day, Madame, Mr. Potter," Sir Nicholas answered, a little put out about not being able to indulge in his curiosity, before gliding through the wall.

Silence reigned in the Hospital Wing for nearly half an hour before a very quiet "Meow," was heard. Madame Pomfrey was relieved to know that the Mandrake potion worked, while Harry took it as a sign that Hermione would be waking up soon. Studying his best friend closely, he noted that her arm had almost made it to her side, she had almost completely relaxed into him, and her heartbeat was at normal speed. Harry smiled happily-he was so close to having Hermione back!

Fifteen minutes later, Harry heard a low groan coming from the girl in his arms. "Hermione?" He whispered hopefully.

For a moment, there was no answer. Then, "H-Harry?" It was so quiet, Harry had to strain to hear it.

"I'm here, Hermione," Harry whispered back, relieved to hear her voice.

"How long?" She croaked out.

"Twenty-two days," Harry answered. "I missed you."

He saw Hermione smile. "I'd say I missed you, too, but time doesn't exist when you're petrified. But I have to admit, waking up in your arms is nice," she teased him.

Harry blushed, but answered back, "As is having you in my arms," causing Hermione to blush.

For a little while, they just stood there, Harry holding Hermione, as Hermione leaned into him. But finally, Hermione thought she had enough strength to do what she wanted. Turning in Harry's arms, she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a quick peck on the lips, before burying her tomato-red face in his chest. "You kissed me," Harry said, sounding stunned. Hermione simply nodded against his chest. Harry moved away a little bit, lifted her chin, and, looking her in the eyes, said, "But you didn't let me kiss you back." Before she could reply, he had given her a quick peck on the lips like she had given him. "W-will you be my girlfriend?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"A-are you sure?" Hermione asked, suddenly unsure what had made her kiss him. "I mean, I have bushy hair, buck teeth, I look plain-"

Harry put a finger against her lips to stop her rambling. "I think you're pretty," he told her firmly, and proceeded to prove it by giving her another kiss. Neither had noticed all the other people become unpetrified, until Penelope Clearwater said, "About time, you two!" Causing them to jump away from each other. Penelope chuckled. "Relax, we're all leaving, so it will just be you two here soon." Molly had convinced Ginny to go home early after the fiasco with the Chamber. "I just wanted to congratulate you before anyone else."

"I'll add my congratulations," Madame Pomfrey said, surprising all three of them. "Miss Granger, I think you'd be interested to learn that Mr. Potter came every day to visit you, and sometimes even snuck in at night, thinking I didn't know," this last bit was said with a smirk towards a very red Harry.

"You did?" Hermione asked, clearly surprised. Harry, refusing to look at her, nodded. "Yes," she said happily. Harry looked up at her, clearly confused, before he realized she was agreeing to be his girlfriend and a smile slowly spread across his face.

"Dinner's just about to start," Madame Pomfrey interrupted; Penelope had already left. "Hermione, you may find that you're a bit hungrier than usual. And Mr. Potter, I think if you talked to your girlfriend a bit more about your home life, it might help," she suggested quietly.

Hermione was a little confused by the statement, but after glancing at Harry and seeing how pale he had become at the suggestion, she decided she was going to get him to open up. As she gently pulled Harry towards the Great Hall, she wondered what Madame Pomfrey knew and how she knew it. Hermione rapidly paled as the answer came to her. Madame Pomfrey would only know something if it had left a physical mark. When she had heard about the bars, the lock, and the cat flap, she had assumed the Dursleys were guilty of neglect. She had never assumed they had abused him. She stopped and pulled Harry into a hug, "It's alright, Harry. I'm here if you need to talk, but I won't make you." Changing subjects as she again started pulling Harry towards the Great Hall, she asked, "Can I please borrow Hedwig after dinner? I want to write to my parents. Also, what happened to the Chamber? Are students still being petrified?"

Harry smiled. This was the Hermione he had missed, the one who was constantly thinking and asking questions. "I'll tell you everything during dinner," he assured her. He wasn't surprised when she started to tug his arm a little harder.

When they got to the Great Hall, they were grateful that no one heeded their arrival, and simply headed to sit with Ron. Upon sitting down, the redhead informed them, "There's a rumor that you guys kissed in the Hospital Wing."

"Yeah, I asked Hermione to be my girlfriend and she said yes," Harry answered.

Ron looked shocked for a minute before he snorted. "Yeah right, why would you ask Hermione to be you girlfriend?" He asked, with the obvious implication that if he asked someone, it shouldn't be Hermione.

Harry narrowed his eyes at his friend. "Why wouldn't I?" He asked testily.

Ron's eyes widened. "You mean...you really asked her?" He asked, clearly surprised.

Harry's eyes narrowed further. "Yes. And I repeat, why wouldn't I?"

Even Ron couldn't miss the warning this time, and hastily mumbled, "Nevermind." Harry noted that Ron's ears were turning red, and he definitely heard him mumbling, but the only words he could catch were, "...girlfriend...everything...famous..." Harry sighed, but let it go. Turning to Hermione, he quickly told her about everything that had happened-sufficiently watered down, of course.

Hermione was left shaking her head in disbelief. She knew her boyfriend had probably toned down his actions, and what he had told her beggared belief. In just two years of schooling, he had encountered a troll, a dragon, a cerberus, numerous acromantula, and a basilisk. True, it was a baby dragon and therefore not very dangerous, but there was also Voldemort in the woods, his jinxed broom, all the traps that led up to Voldemort, and that bloody diary that had a piece of Voldemort. Three times! Her boyfriend had faced down the darkest Dark Lord in history three times in two years! And inside a school of all places!

"I thought Hogwarts was supposed to be safe?" Hermione asked rhetorically.

"So we were told," Harry answered, sounding doubtful.

"Maybe we should go somewhere else next year," Hermione said.

Harry was about to reply that they had friends there, but a glance at Ron showed that his ears were getting even more red, leaving him to wonder if they would still be friends. So instead, he simply asked, "Where?"

"There are supposed to be some nice schools in America," Hermione answered. "We wouldn't even have to learn a new language."

"But what about your parents?" Harry asked.

"They didn't want me coming back anyway, because of the troll and the Stone," she told him. "But they can't just uproot and move to America, so you have a point," Hermione sighed.

"What are they like?" Harry asked suddenly.

"My parents?" Hermione questioned, though she knew the answer. "Well, you know they're both dentists. They jointly own their own practice. As far as looks, you met them-"

"Yeah, but I don't really remember what they look like," Harry interrupted before she could continue.

"Oh, alright," she said, not really minding; she loved her parents, after all. "My dad's fairly tall, nearly six feet, and my mom's a little shorter. I have my dad's eyes, but my mom's hair-I can't wait for it to settle down like hers, though. Her hair is basically like mine, if you uncurled it a little, but my dad's bald. They're both average weight for their height. They're both very intelligent, and neither will leap to conclusions without getting numerous facts. If my dad gets angry, though, he'll go for a full-on frontal assault, whereas my mom prefers to tear you apart piece by piece. She's the type of person who'll ask you questions where you trap yourself with no way out." Lowering her voice so that only Harry could hear her, she continued, "My grandfather on my dad's side was abused, and my mom wanted more children and is very defensive of any she comes across, so they're two more people who will be on your side, if you want to talk to an adult instead of me."

"Hermione, I promise that if I talk to anyone, it's going to be you," he reassured her. "Just, not for a while, okay?" He asked with a sad smile.

"Okay," she said, returning the smile.

* * *

Once they had returned to the common room, Hermione gave a quick kiss to Harry before going up to her room to write a letter to her parents, while Harry opened the window to allow Hedwig in; she always knew when he needed her. While he waited for both his girls to arrive, he went over to where Ron was playing chess against himself. "Hey, Ron," Harry began, "You're alright with Hermione and I dating, right?"

"Well, at first I wasn't," Ron started, "But then I thought about it some, and I think it's a brilliant idea." Harry started to smile and Ron continued, "Can you help me out with finding a practice girlfriend, too? As long as-" That was as far as he got before Harry's fist cut off his sentence. He got in five more good punches to his former friend's face before Dean, Seamus, Neville and the twins were able to pull him off.

_"Never_ insult Hermione," Harry growled, ceasing his struggles against the five boys.

"Don't worry, Harry," one of the twins said.

"We'll take care of him," the other finished.

Harry gave a curt nod as they levitated their brother. Unfortunately, they forgot to take into account that Hedwig was Harry's familiar. And she had entered the room while Harry was pummelling Ron. When the fool who angered her Harry was levitated, it offered a target she couldn't resist, and the snowy owl dive-bombed his blood covered face. After getting in a few swipes, she flew away, but she now looked quite vicious covered in blood, and Harry noticed several people edge away from her, which made him smile.

"Harry?" A familiar voice gasped. "Are you alright? And why is Hedwig covered in blood?" Hermione asked, worry in his eyes.

"Don't worry," Harry said cheerfully, "None of it's mine for once. It's all Ron's."

Hermione was shocked. Ron was Harry's first friend, and, by default, his best friend, as well. "What did he do?" She asked aloud.

"Bastard called you a practice girlfriend," Harry growled. "He's lucky Dean, Seamus, Neville, and the twins pulled me off, or he might not be breathing." Harry suddenly brightened. "Hey, we should come back next year so I can feed him to whatever dangerous creature this place has next," he said cheerfully.

Hermione's mind was whirling. _An insult to me? An insult to me causes that much of a reaction? What happens if someone tries to hurt me?_ She smiled at the thought of Harry's reaction, not because she wanted him to fight, but just because he was protective of her. It made her feel safe. However, "Harry, as much as I appreciate you defending me, you don't have to fight with your best friend over it."

Harry snorted. "I think my fists connecting with his face ensured that he's no longer my best mate," he told her. "Besides, it would have happened anyway. One day, he would hurt you or his jealousies would flare and our friendship would end. It just ended...abruptly, by happening at this time."

"Alright, Harry," Hermione said, smiling. She felt like that had been the only thing she'd done since she woke up in the Hospital Wing, and she had no problem exercising those muscles. "But how do we clean off Hedwig? And your hands?"

"Here, let me," Katie Bell said. "I'll do Hedwig, you do his hands, alright Hermione?" She asked the younger girl, who nodded, eager to learn a new spell. "Evanesco," She said, pointing at Hedwig, who responded with a look that managed to say 'thank you.' "Umm... you're welcome," Katie said, feeling odd about talking to a bird. However, no one laughed, considering what they had seen said bird do.

Hermione replayed Katie doing the spell in her mind a few times before nodding to herself. Pointing her wand at Harry, she incanted, "Evanesco," and watched the blood disappear to be replaced by slightly open wounds. "Anyone know how to heal these?" She asked the common room.

"I do," a fourth year Hermione knew to be named Kahlan answered. "I plan on becoming a healer after Hogwarts, so Madame Pomfrey teaches me when she has no patients." She pointed her wand at Harry's hand, incanting, "Sedo." She allowed Hermione to do the other hand, and no one was surprised when it worked. "It's actually a spell for smooth skin, but it will heal minor cuts," she explained to Hermione.

"Thank you..." Harry began.

"Kahlan," the girl supplied, "Kahlan Amnell."

"Thank you, Kahlan," Harry said. Turning to Hermione, he gave her a much deeper kiss than they had shared in the Hospital Wing, and said, "And thank you, 'Mione." When, after a few moments, the only response from Hermione was looking dazed with a goofy grin on her face, he asked, "Don't you have a letter to send?" Hermione shook her head to clear it, and nodded, though she still looked slightly dazed and the grin never even twitched.

As Hedwig flew off, the portrait hole opened and McGonagall walked in. She had barely looked around the common room before spotting her quarry and making her way towards him. "Mr. Potter, do you have an explanation for why Mr. Weasley is in the Hospital Wing?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry answered. "He decided to insult my beautiful, brilliant girlfriend, Hermione, by calling her a practice girlfriend and asking me to help him get one. No one insults Hermione in my presence, and since I've now defeated Voldemort three times, faced a troll, a cerberus, a nest of acromantula, and a sixty-foot basilisk, people might want to take note." Harry didn't really like his fame, but if he could use his accomplishments to protect Hermione, he would.

McGonagall had seen how close the two had grown, and anyone who thought of Hermione as a practice girlfriend was in for a very, very rude awakening. Considering that, of the last four creatures Harry mentioned, the basilisk was most dangerous thing he had faced, and it died, she privately thought they were lucky not to be writing an obituary. However, her sense of fairness wouldn't allow her not to do something. "Mr. Potter, as much as he may have deserved it, I cannot condone fighting. Five points from Gryffindor for fighting." She was almost to the portrait hole when she turned back. "And twenty points to Gryffindor for proving that chivalry is not dead." She left before the cheers started.

"So, Mr. Potter," Hermione whispered into a shocked Harry's ear as the common room cheered for him, "Yesterday you fought a basilisk, and today you fought Ron. Who or what's next?"

"Let someone else get into a fight," he said.

"So you won't fight my parents when you meet them at the train station?" She teased.

Harry paled drastically. Even he knew of the legendary father/boyfriend chats. "Please help me?" He begged his girlfriend.

Hermione giggled, and shook her head mockingly. "Give him Voldemort and a sixty-foot basilisk, sure, not a problem. Give him his girlfriend's parents, and he cowers in fear. Don't worry, I'll help you," she finally told him.

Harry sighed in relief. "Thank you," he said feelingly, causing Hermione to laugh at him again. Harry gave a playful pout, and she responded by raising a hand to playfully smack him. Unfortunately, the playful mood ended as Harry flinched, paling slightly.

Hermione gasped, recalling her earlier revelation and berating herself for forgetting. "Harry, I'm sorry," she said, pulling him into a hug. "I didn't mean it, it was just going to be a playful swat," she explained, practically in tears.

"It's okay, Hermione," he told her. "I just overreacted."

"I just wish you didn't have good reason to," she sniffed.

Harry shrugged. It was just something he lived with to him. "Goodnight, Hermione," he said, promptly followed by a yawn.

Hermione gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Goodnight, Harry," she whispered. She watched him disappear up the steps, before turning to go to her dorm.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione was up early, excited to have her first full day as Harry's girlfriend. She wasn't surprised that the common room was empty this early in the morning; she simply grabbed a book and waited for her boyfriend to wake up.

She was quickly absorbed in her book and didn't notice Ron come in until he spoke to her. "What did you do to him?" He demanded, startling Hermione. "One day we're best mates, the next he's punching my face in. You did something to him, you whore!" Hermione stared at him, unwilling to believe it was happening. She was used to Ron saying stupid things that were hurtful, but she had still considered him a friend. She couldn't believe he was doing this. He sneered at her frightened look. "Malfoy was right, you're just a mudblood," he said dismissively. With that thrown in her face, he turned away.

Right into Harry Potter's fist. An enraged Harry Potter who proceeded to reenact the previous night, with no one in the common room besides Hermione who was still stunned into unresponsiveness. In other words, Harry could pound away to his heart's content.

Eventually, the fist-to-face sounds roused Hermione from her stupor, and she knew she needed to stop Harry before he killed the redhead. "Harry," she called. To her surprise, he immediately stopped and looked up at her. When she motioned him to get off, he reluctantly complied. Hermione soon removed the blood Harry's hands before healing them. Then she turned to Ron, removing the blood on his face and healing it before she roused him from unconsciousness. Before he could say anything, though, her foot found a resting place in his crotch. He made to cover the area, but Hermione placed him in a modified body bind she had found that she would later recall with a blush had been designed for BDSM role play. Ron was left spread-eagled on the floor, unable to move, or block Hermione's foot impacting on his crotch four more times.

She was going to kick him some more, but she found herself wrapped in Harry's arms. Before she realized what had happened, she found herself sobbing into Harry's shirt, with Harry rubbing her back and making soothing sounds in her ear. "I vote for telling Hagrid what he said, and seeing what he comes up with," Harry said at one point, which made her give a watery chuckle as she imagined what the normally calm, but enormous, man would come up with. "Although, watching him piss himself before being eaten by Aragog sounds appealling, too." That turned her watery chuckle into full laughter as she imagined the redhead whimpering, pissing himself, and fainting before being eaten.

"But how would we get him there?" Hermione asked.

"We ask Hagrid," Harry explained simply. "When we explain why, we'll get to watch both punishments."

"You're cruel," Hermione said, laughing.

"I'd rather face that than have my manhood kicked in," Harry said honestly. "Although, watching it happen to that bastard isn't as painful to watch as I'd expect. I only stopped you because I don't want you to be in too much trouble."

"I guess we better get him to the Hospital Wing," she sighed.

"If we have to," Harry grumbled reluctantly.

"I can't heal that," she said, "Even if I could find something that small." Harry smiled slightly at her joke, but found himself wondering how he'd measure up when the time eventually came. Sensing where his thoughts were, she told him, "Don't worry. We won't be getting to that for a few years, most likely."

"How is that supposed to stop me from worrying?" He asked.

"Because you're still growing."

"Oh. Yeah, that does help a little."

"Good. Would you mind levitating the trash to the Hospital Wing?" She asked sweetly.

"Not in the slightest. Would you mind if I dropped him occasionally?" He asked, a feral grin adorning his face.

"Nope," she answered, still as sweet as before, but with a grin to match her boyfriend's. Had Ron still been conscious, he would have said it was frightening combination. Since he wasn't, he was simply levitated to the Hospital Wing by Harry, who managed to resist the urge to drop him.

"What happened?" Madame Pomfrey asked, releasing the body bind on her patient. This was a new record, since she had only released him an hour ago.

"Well, I only caught him call my Hermione a mudblood, so I pounded his face in a few times, but there must have been more since, after she healed him, she proceeded to kick his crotch in five times," Harry stated calmly, secure in the knowledge that he could handle any punishment.

Madame Pomfrey appeared alarmed, and immediately began to diagnose the redhead. She never noticed Harry pull Hermione from her domain, as she was too busy assessing the damage her foot did to his pelvis. His pelvis bone was clearly broken in numerous places, and the redhead was lucky his crotch was still attached, if not in one piece. She quickly had him healed and awake, but left the pain to reinforce her message, "Mr. Weasley, I would advise against antagonizing either of those two in the future." She just hoped the pain helped it sink in as she went to floo call Minerva.

In the hallway just outside the Hospital Wing, Harry was questioning Hermione. "What else did he say, Hermione?"

"Nothing," she replied stubbornly.

"Please?" He begged.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said.

Pulling out his last resort, Harry offered hesitantly, "You can ask me any one question, and I'll answer it."

Knowing that was more than fair, Hermione said, "You also have to promise you won't have another go at him."

"I promise not to have another go at him for this," Harry said.

Knowing it was the best she would get, Hermione accepted and told him, "He also called me a whore."

Harry was angry, but he was also confused. "Why did it strike so deeply?"

"Do I get another question if I answer that?" Harry sighed, but nodded. "Before I came to Hogwarts, the other kids used my bushy hair and buck teeth to call me a beaver, or variants with it, such as bookworm beaver, or beaver whore, though that was usually the older kids. It just brought it back," she explained, unable to look at him.

Harry, not knowing what to say, simply pulled her into a hug and wordlessly offered his unconditional support.

It took a few more minutes before Hermione could control herself, but once she did, Harry steeled himself, knowing what was coming. "What was their overall favorite form of punishment?" Hermione asked quietly. Feeling Harry tense, she attempted to prepare herself.

"They threw me into the cupboard under the stairs-my bedroom, until a little before I turned eleven-and left me there for a few days or even a week," he answered tonelessly.

"What was the second?" Hermione choked out, whispering. Her preparations had failed miserably.

"My uncle has a belt with metal studs on it. It's his favorite belt, because he uses it to beat me. He told me that, once," he replied, still just as toneless.

"You're not going back there!" She cried, sobbing. "You're not! I won't let you!"

Before Harry could conjure an answer, McGonagall appeared on the scene, looking shocked at the sight of Hermione sobbing. "What is going on? Mr. Weasley ending up in the Hospital Wing twice, and now this? I demand an answer!"

"It's personal," Harry replied curtly.

"Mr. Potter, I am your Head of House-"

"He said it's personal!" Hermione shouted at her, shocking the teacher into silence. No one had shouted at her since she became a teacher, and the fact that it was Hermione just added to the shock.

"Ten points from each of you!" She finally said before storming away.

"So we both beat the crap out of Ron, and you shout at a teacher, but we only lost a total of five points? I'm okay with that," Harry said, attempting to lighten the mood. Hermione merely nodded, hoping her parents answered her quickly.

* * *

The story of how Ron ended up in the Hospital Wing was somehow spread around the school before lunch, but Harry and Hermione refused to talk to anyone but each other, and everyone else quickly stopped trying. It wasn't until dinner that their mood changed upon the arrival of a certain snowy owl. Hermione snatched the letter from Hedwig and dragged Harry to the common room so she could read the letter and-hopefully-celebrate in private.

As soon as the portrait closed behind them, Hermione ripped open the letter and quickly read it. "Yes!" She shouted, before pushing her boyfriend onto a chair and beginning the first full-fledged snog either had enjoyed in celebration.

When it was over, both had very large grins, and very dazed looks. "What was that for?" Harry asked happily.

"That was a celebration," Hermione replied, equally as happy. "My parents completely agree with me, and you're not going back to the Dursleys. You're spending the summer with me!"

"That's great!" Harry exclaimed. "I just have to owl the Dursleys, and I'm set!"

"Nope!" Hermione contradicted him. "My parents want to 'meet' them, and requested that you not owl them!"

"Meaning I just have to thank my awesome girlfriend?" Harry queried. Hermione nodded happily, and no one in Gryffindor asked about their grins later on.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks go to Inzainiac for correcting my mistakes, as usual! He's the reason you can read this without getting a headache!**

**Now I have a challenge for my readers:  
Does anyone have a better title for my story? I don't really like it at the moment.**


	2. Family, House Elves, and An Old Man

The next few days flew by as Harry and Hermione adjusted to being a couple, and it was soon the day for Hogwarts students to head home. Harry and Hermione were walking down the train looking for a compartment, but everywhere they went either had people they didn't want to see in them, or were full. Until, finally, they found a compartment with only one person in it. But Harry noticed something was wrong. Why was the girl crying?

Pulling the door open quickly, Hermione rushed in and pulled the blonde girl into a hug. "Are you alright?" Harry asked the now confused girl.

"Umm," she sniffed, "Yeah," she answered unconvincingly.

"You can talk to us," Hermione encouraged her.

"But you don't even know my name," she said, shocked.

Harry shrugged. "So what's your name?"

"Luna," she said shyly, attempting to surreptitiously wipe the tears from her eyes.

"Nice to meet you Luna," Hermione said. "My name's Hermione, and this is Harry."

Luna nodded. "I know. Ginny told me while you were visiting for the summer."

"You know Ginny?" Harry asked.

Luna nodded sadly. "Yeah, but she wouldn't talk to me this year."

Harry looked to Hermione, but she shook her head. "Luna, you should talk to Ginny this summer. I can't reveal her secrets, but I can assure you that she had a good reason for not talking to you."

The hope her eyes expressed was heartbreaking. "Really?"

"Really," Hermione confirmed with a smile. "Now what else was bothering you?"

"Nothing," Luna answered quickly and without meeting the eyes of either of them.

Harry finally sat down next to her, and joined his girlfriend in wrapping an arm around her. "You don't have to tell us if you don't want to," Harry reassured her, in case she thought they were pressuring her, "But we're here if you do."

Luna seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then it was like a dam broke. "It's just...I thought I'd be able to make friends here. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy being friends with Ginny, but sometimes I felt like it was because I was the only person her age. But when I got here, the so-called intelligent house believes that my father's articles in the Quibbler are meant to be taken verbatim." She laughed bitterly, though the other two thought it sounded like a sob. "If there are such things as heliopaths, crumple-horned snorkacks, wrackspurts, or nargles, then no one's discovered them yet. If no one's discovered them, how can we write about their habits? We can't! If you change those words to affairs, bribery, corruption, or incompetence, the articles make much more sense. Instead, my clothes are getting stolen, I'm getting locked out of the dorm, or locked in a closet!" Luna, apparently done, broke down and sobbed. Harry gently passed her to Hermione before exiting the compartment.

It didn't take him very long to find a Ravenclaw prefect. He momentarily paused, considering that just a few days ago, he wouldn't have done this, before he pushed the thought aside and entered the compartment. "May I please talk to you," Harry demanded, ignoring the others in the compartment.

The prefect was tempted to say no, but considering that this boy's robes seemed to be caught up in some type of wind and he had defeated a basilisk, he decided not to anger the force that was Harry Potter and excused himself from the compartment.

The moment the prefect closed the compartment, Harry asked, "Do you know a girl named Luna?"

"Looney?" He asked, surprised. "Yeah-"

He got no further, as a hand was wrapped around his throat. "Her name. Is. Luna," Harry hissed venomously before releasing him.

"Right," the prefect croaked, rubbing his sore throat, "Luna. What about her?" He asked warily.

Had Harry not been so angry, he would have been amused at how terrified of him the boy was. Instead, he was trying not to curse him. Admittedly, this was fairly easy, since he didn't know many, but still. "Is there a reason that members of her own house are bullying her?"

"She's just so odd, and-"

"So no," Harry interrupted. "You're supposed to be a prefect!" He shouted. "I could maybe understand name calling, but having her stuff stolen? Being locked out of the common room? Being locked in a closet? If I hear anything about your house treating Luna badly next year, you will find yourselves in _very_ uncomfortable situations. Make sure the rest of your house knows it. We'll see how smart you are next year," he threw as a parting shot, leaving the amusingly shaken prefect to get back to the compartment with Luna and Hermione. He never noticed that the other people from the prefect's compartment looked just as shaken.

* * *

Dan and Emma liked to think of themselves as intelligent people. So when their daughter told them that her boyfriend was being abused, they believed her, but had decided to check and make sure anyway.

When they caught sight of Hermione and the boy that had to be her boyfriend, they immediately noticed that neither was looking at them, but somewhere to the left. And while their daughter looked pissed, the boy looked panicked. Fairly certain what that meant, they looked and found three people; one fat adult male, a skinny woman with her nose in the air that they presumed was his wife, and a younger, enormous, male that they presumed was the couple's son.

Several things had them sure that their daughter was correct about the boy's home life. One, the three people to their right were dressed in decent clothes while Harry was dressed in what might as well be rags. Two, despite those rags, it was clear that the boy was very thin while the two males were the size of miniature whales. Three, the panicked look on the boy's face was clearly genuine. And four, the utter contempt for which the three people were looking at him with.

Despite being convinced, Dan walked up to the family and introduced himself. "Hi, I'm Dr. Daniel Granger, and this is my wife, Dr. Emma Granger."

Upon hearing 'Dr.' the posture of the trio instantly changed, and they appeared congenial and welcoming, making the elder Grangers nauseous. The pudgy man stuck out his equally pudgy hand to shake and introduced himself and his family. "My name is Vernon Dursley, this is my wife, Petunia Dursley, and our son, Dudley Dursley."

At that point, Hermione arrived, towing a nervous-looking Harry. She hugged and greeted both her parents, but they both noted that she kept an eye on the Dursleys and Harry, who was fidgeting nervously.

"Well boy, we don't have all day," Vernon said gruffly.

Harry paled, but Dan saved him. "Ah, about that. It seems our children conspired against us to have Harry come to our house for the summer."

"You don't mind, do you?" Emma asked, seamlessly taking over.

Judging by how quickly his face was turning purple, it would appear he did mind. "You mean we drove all this way for nothing?" He shouted, rounding on his usual target.

Feigning calm, Dan asked innocently, "Wouldn't you want to see your nephew at least once during the summer?"

"I never wanted to see the freak!" Vernon shouted.

"So you beat him?" Emma asked venomously, dropping the act.

Completely forgetting that he was in a crowded train station, Vernon continued shouting. "The little bastard deserved it! Just as freakish as his parents!"

"What had he done to you?" Dan asked angrily.

"He was dumped on our doorstep! We didn't ask for him! We were forced to house him, feed him, and clothe him!" Vernon yelled.

"He was one!" Hermione jumped in. "It's not like he would have chosen to live with you!" She spat.

"Why you...!" His rage apparently rendering him speechless, he lunged at Hermione. Dan moved to stop him, but he was too late.

Harry, seeing his uncle attack Hermione, felt something snap inside him. Moving far faster than Dan, he was between his uncle and his girlfriend before anyone else registered the motion. Vernon got one more step before Harry flew at his face, screaming at the top of his lungs, "DON'T TOUCH HERMIONE!"

Unfortunately, Harry was only twelve, and, despite ten months at Hogwarts, still suffered from malnourishment. This enabled Vernon to easily tear the boy off him and throw him at one of the stone pillars.

This enraged Dan, who had momentarily been frozen in shock at the fierce protectiveness of a twelve-year-old. Seeing Harry's crumpled form at the base of a stone pillar freed him from his shock, and the former rugby player charged the fat man who was advancing on his fallen nephew. Vernon never saw the fist that knocked him out. Nor did he see the seven follow-up punches, or the approach of the constables who pulled Dan off him and asked what was going on. Petunia immediately went off about how he had attacked her husband.

Emma, struggling to remain calm, refuted that. "We were talking to them about their nephew, when my daughter," she gestured to Hermione, who was comforting Harry, "made a comment that set Mr. Dursley off, and he lunged at her. The boy, Harry Potter, their nephew, leaped to her defense. Mr. Dursley turned his attention to the boy, and my husband leaped to his defense." The fact that most of the bystanders were nodding in agreement with her version of events made up the minds of the constables, who ignored Petunia's cries that it was all lies.

With the constables dealt with, Emma and Dan rushed to the kids' aid, surprised to find Harry already standing. It was clear that at least one rib was broken, as was his left arm, and he was coughing up a little bit of blood. "Are you alright?" Emma asked needlessly, concerned. She automatically raised her hand to his forehead, though it would obviously do no good in this case. She hesitated slightly when he flinched, realizing what she was doing. It went against her mothering instincts, but she lowered her hand. She decided then and there that she would attempt to get him used to mothering slowly. But right now, he needed to heal.

"Should we get him to a hospital?" She asked her daughter worriedly.

Hermione shook her head. "I'll owl Madame Pomfrey. For now, I just have to prevent him from moving too much." On the outside, she had a look of long-suffering indulgence, but Emma noticed the look of pain behind her daughter's eyes.

Dan was watching his daughter and was seeing the same thing as his wife. But where Emma was glad to see that her daughter connected so well with someone her age, Dan was becoming very concerned about how serious this relationship was. Attempting to put that thought aside for the moment, he led his family plus one limping boy to the car. When Hermione placed his head in her lap, Dan's worry spiked, and he even noticed a momentary frown on Emma's face. Though, given that Harry had just coughed up a little more blood, he may be misreading that.

Time seemed to drag on the trip home, but Emma was sure that it was her worry for Harry's wellbeing that made it seem so long. When they did finally reach their home, Emma watched as Hermione gently placed Harry on the couch, before racing to get pen and paper, followed by zooming back to Harry's side while writing the letter. When she finished the letter, Emma was going to offer to mail it, when Hedwig swooped in as though she knew Hermione was done. She continued to watch as her daughter whispered a few hurried words to the bird, who, to Emma's surprise, nodded, before flying away swiftly.

Seeing that Hermione was occupied caring for her boyfriend, Dan pulled his wife into the kitchen to talk. "How serious do you think they are?" He asked his wife in a hushed voice.

"I know that Hermione is very serious," Emma began slowly, ignoring her husband's groan. "As for Harry, I don't know him very well, but I think he's just as serious if not more so."

"More so?" Dan asked despairingly.

Emma nodded. "Like I said, I don't know really know him well enough, but he jumped on the back of a mountain troll for her in first year. We may not be magical, but it's not too hard to comprehend a twelve-foot biped built of muscle. Just today, he leaped at someone who he was clearly afraid of for her. But unlike Hermione, he doesn't have any type of support system at home, so he may be more dependent upon her than she is on him, and do anything for her to stay with him. We can't really complain about someone who will do anything for her," she pointed out.

"Can't I try?" Dan asked pleadingly.

"Ask Hermione," Emma answered, knowing he wouldn't risk it. And he glared at her, knowing that she knew it, making her smirk. "Is it really that hard to like someone that devoted to our daughter?" She asked when he continued to glare.

"I-he-that's not the point!" He sputtered indignantly.

"Then what is the point?" She challenged him.

He paused for a moment to think about it, before crossing his arms and replying gruffly, "He's not good enough for her."

"Can't I decide that?" Their twelve-year-old daughter interrupted, clearly irritated. Both dentists jumped at the sound of her voice, since neither had noticed her entrance.

"It's not that," her dad tried to stall.

"He's just your dad and will never think anyone's good enough for you," Emma finished, saving her husband. She quickly changed the topic, "Did you need something, Hermione? I didn't think you'd leave Harry."

"You guys were getting loud, and we could hear you from the living room," Hermione explained.

"And I agree with you, Mr. Granger," Harry's voice called from the living room.

"Harry, your opinion could hardly be called objective," Hermione called back, exasperated.

"And yours could?" Emma asked before Harry could.

Surprisingly, Hermione was able to keep herself from blushing as she answered, "No, but you were arguing in his defense, Mum."

"So you're saying it's two against two?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's probably closer to six-hundred to two," Hermione said, feeling all her insecurities rise. "Every witch in the country between the ages of six and thirty want a piece of my boyfriend."

"I'm only up for grabs when you realize how much better than me you could do," Harry called from the living room, apparently still following the conversation.

"And that's why I can't do better than you," Hermione pointed out.

"I wouldn't go that far," Dan temporized, earning himself a glare from his daughter, and a disapproving look from his wife.

"Hermione?" Harry called, sounding sad.

Hermione shot one last glare at her father before heading in to the living room with Harry. She didn't notice her parents watch from the kitchen as she knelt beside him. "Yes, Harry?" She asked, her parents listening to every word.

"When you do find someone better than me," he held up hand to forestall her protesting, "Can you promise me we'll still be friends?"

Instead of answering, she asked, "Will you promise me the same thing?"

"I would if there was anyone better for me than you," Harry answered. "Who else sees me as 'just Harry?' No one in the wizarding world. The Dursleys see me as a freak that they were saddled with, and anyone they talk to thinks I'm some kind of criminal. And no one else knows me. So who's better than you for me?" He questioned his girlfriend.

"I don't know, someone who likes quidditch, or is prettier, or-"

"No one's prettier," Harry interrupted, almost sounding angry. "And I don't mind that you don't like quidditch, you still come just to see me play, so how could I have a problem with that? And what if they played quidditch? Can you imagine the nightmare if they were on a different team, and we had some huge argument over it? If I want to talk quidditch with someone, I'll go talk to someone else about it while you go have girl talk with someone else."

"How can you say no one's prettier?" Hermione asked, almost despairingly. "My hair is so bushy, I have buck teeth, and I don't have any boobs."

"I like your hair," Harry countered, "Who cares if you have buck teeth when your smile lights up the room, and you're thirteen, if boobs are that important to you, they'll probably grow when you get older. Your eyes are beautiful, you have more compassion than anyone else I know, and even Snape admits you're intelligent, though I disagree with his methods.

"Now, since you've listed your faults, shall I list mine?" He asked rhetorically. "I'm scrawny and short for my age, my relatives leave a lot to be desired, there's a homicidal maniac after me, I'm prone to injuries like this one, and even people who try to save my life almost kill me."

"I guess it's my turn to counter all of your 'faults', then, isn't it?" Hermione asked-also rhetorically. "You're scrawny and short because the horrible relatives you mentioned liked to lock you in a cupboard for a week or two," she didn't hear her father's growl of outrage, or her mother's indignant huff, "neither your relatives or the homicidal maniac are your fault, magic can heal those injuries in about ten minutes, and from your descriptions, Dobby didn't exactly sound sane to me. So how about we agree to disagree?"

Harry thought about it for a minute, before smiling slightly and nodding. "It might be selfish, but I'm glad I didn't manage to convince you."

"Good. Now rest," Hermione told him firmly.

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," Harry teased her.

"Just wait until it actually is Madame Pomfrey," Hermione answered with a smile. Harry merely nodded, his eyes never leaving her face as he slowly drifted to sleep.

* * *

Some time later, not much had changed. Hermione was still by Harry's side, and her parents were still in the kitchen discussing the children, though they did ensure that they were quiet this time. That changed with a small 'pop' that Hermione had been expecting for a while. She hadn't expected the second one, though.

"Headmaster?" Hermione asked, a bit surprised. "Why are you here?"

"Why isn't Harry at his relatives?" Dumbledore asked, appearing to ignore the question, while Poppy immediately went to work on Harry.

"Are you kidding me?" Emma asked, having come into the room when she heard the pops. "Why would we have let him go back to people who caused that?"

"I know it's not ideal, but he's protected there," Dumbledore answered.

"Protected from Voldemort, you mean?" Dan asked. Dumbledore merely nodded, looking pleased. "What good does that protection do if his relatives kill him?"

Dumbledore looked shocked. "Surely they wouldn't..."

"They did that," Emma gestured to Harry, "in broad daylight in a crowded train station. I think it's lucky they haven't killed him already."

"But-but he's safe there!" Dumbledore reiterated obliviously as though it made everything better.

"Again, safety from some dark wizard does nothing if his relatives kill him," Emma repeated her husband's words.

"The only time that they didn't harrass me," Harry interjected, "was when they thought I could do magic after first year. As soon as they found out that I wasn't allowed, I was being fed cold soup through a catflap twice a week with bars on my windows."

Emma, Dan, and Hermione were outraged, and Dumbledore looked shocked, but also thoughtful. Without a word, he turned on the spot and vanished.

"How rude!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Indeed," Madame Pomfrey agreed, who had just finished healing Harry. "The Headmaster can often be eccentric, but he's not usually rude." Turning back to her patient, she told him, "Mr. Potter, I've been a Healer for over twenty years at Hogwarts, but you're the first patient I've seen over the summer. Try not to make a habit of it."

"Yes, Madame Pomfrey," Harry dutifully replied. "Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," he teased slightly.

Ignoring the teasing note, the healer answered, "You're welcome. Good day, everyone." And with another 'pop,' the healer vanished.

"And she can make it to Scotland from here?" Emma asked her daughter.

"Yeah, but not into Hogwarts. You can't apparate into-or out of-Hogwarts," Hermione answered.

"Unless you're a house-elf," Harry interjected.

Hermione's head snapped around so fast, the other three people in the room thought she should have whiplash. "What do you mean?" She demanded of her boyfriend.

"What's a house-elf?" Emma asked simultaneously.

Rather than answer, Harry wondered if Dobby could hear him, and tested his theory. "Dobby?"

The little elf appeared with a 'crack'. "The Great Harry Potter, sir, is callings Dobby," he exclaimed, practically jumping up and down with joy.

Harry smiled down at the energetic elf. Despite the fact that he had caused him to be abused by his relatives, crash into a brick wall, and break his arm, he found himself growing fond of the loyalty and good nature he possessd-even if it was misdirected. "Yes, Dobby, I called you. This is Hermione, and these are her parents," Harry handled the introductions.

"Dobbys is honored to meets the Great Harry Potter's Grangey and the Great Harry Potter's Grangey's parents," Dobby said excitedly as a way of greeting.

"Dobby, how can you apparate through Hogwarts wards?" Hermione asked, getting straight to the point.

"Those wards is wizard magic, not house-elf magic," Dobby answered as though it were obvious.

"Can you take other people with you through those wards?" Hermione asked, looking excited

"Yes Ms. Harry Potter's Grangey, Dobby cans do that," the little elf said, nodding excitedly. "Would Harry Potter's Grangey like me to?" He asked, holding out his hand.

Hermione looked tempted, but shook her head. "Not right now, Dobby. Maybe later."

"Dobby?" Emma interrupted, getting over her shock of there being a house-elf in her house. "What exactly are house-elves?"

"I's a house-elf," Dobby answered, looking confused.

Emma momentarily appeared as confused as Dobby by how to answer that, but she quickly rallied. "No, I mean, what do house-elves want and do?" She asked, rephrasing her question.

"Oh!" Dobby exclaimed, his face lighting up in understanding. "House-elves loves to serves master in any ways masters wants."

"Wait," Hermione interjected, looking confused, "You mean house-elves like to serve people?"

Dobby nodded emphatically. "Oh yes, Master Harry Potter's Grangey."

"But...why?" Hermione asked, clearly confused.

Dobby, too, looked confused. "I's don't understand. Are nots some humans likings to serve, too?"

Hermione opened her mouth to reply in the negative, when she remembered the spell she had used on Ron, prompting her to promptly shut her mouth and blush deeply as her hormonal mind began to wander to images of Harry using that spell on her. She could only nod, while Harry looked confused and her parents traded worried glances.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked, perplexed. He'd been forced to serve his relatives his entire life, and people liked that? Dobby, at least, was a different species, so he could understand that they might be different, but people?

Hermione promptly blushed even more at the question, though part of it was anger, Emma looked sad and angry, and Dan was torn between anger and relief. Until his wife looked at him with a clear message in her eyes. He wanted to argue, but he knew he would lose and end up in the dog house. But he couldn't help himself from asking exasperatedly, "I'm supposed to give my daughter's boyfriend the talk on the birds and the bees?"

Emma started to smile, Hermione groaned, and Harry looked even more confused. "Why do I have to learn about birds and bees?"

"I'll take that as a yes," Dan sighed, while Emma looked ready for murder and Hermione clearly wanted to cry. "But not today. Today I need to get really, really drunk."

Harry, still not understanding, did what he usually did when he didn't understand something. He looked to a purple-faced Hermione. Had she been able to, she probably would have blushed even more. Instead, she just leaned over and whispered what they were talking about in his ear. Emma forced herself to laugh to prevent herself from crying and going to murder some Dursleys as Harry's face rapidly flushed bright red, and then drained of color as he glanced at Dan.

"Umm..." Harry said, "I'm not really sure I want to know the answer to this, but what does..._that_, have to do with serving someone?"

"God hates me," Dan muttered to himself, just audible to everyone else in the room. "He really hates me." Turning to Harry, he answered, "I'll tell you with our...talk."

Harry paled a little more at the word 'talk,' but nodded. "Er...any idea...uh...when?" He asked the older man.

Dan shook his head and opened his mouth to reply when a 'pop' and the appearance of AlbusDumbledore cut him off. "Shouldn't you ask permission before doing that?" Emma snapped at the Headmaster.

Dumbledore paused momentarily in his turn towards Harry, before changing direction and facing Emma. "You are, of course, correct. I apologize for my presumption and lack of forethought. In my defense, I am rather stressed."

Hermione, however, was not appeased. "Then why don't you relax instead of trying to send Harry to his abusive relatives," she 'suggested'.

Dumbledore winced at the tone and the words themselves. "I am concerned about Harry's safety," Dumbledore answered. Seeing Hermione move to answer angrily again, he quickly raised his hand to forestall her. "I understand that his relatives are not...nice. And that is why I am here," he segued, completing his original turn to look at Harry. "Harry, I have a license here for you to use magic, though you are still bound by the secrecy act, so that you can go there and live in safety from dark wizards and your family."

Harry looked at the slip of paper that had appeared in the headmaster's hand for a moment, before turning to look the Headmaster in the eye. "No thanks."

Dumbledore looked shocked. "Why not?" He asked, attempting to keep his frustration and irritation out of his voice. Didn't the boy know how hard it was for him to get this?

"Several reasons," Harry answered. He had always toned down how smart he was because the Dursleys got upset with him, and then Ron was a lazy git, but now, without being at the house of his 'relatives', and with Hermione by his side, he was no longer afraid. "First, I won't accept unless Hermione gets the same offer. Second, I want to be able to see Hermione. Third, if they actually overcame their fear long enough, I don't actually know any magic to protect me. Fourth, I'm completely defenseless in my sleep, even if I did know spells to protect me. And fifth, I wouldn't trust them not to poison whatever food I ate," he reasoned. Hermione didn't say anything, but it was clear by the fact that she reached over and gripped Harry's arm supportively that she agreed with his choice not to go back.

"The only way you would go is if I could counter all of that?" Dumbledore asked with a sigh. He might be able to do it, but it would be difficult.

"Dobbys can be bringings Master Harry Potter Sir food," the momentarily forgotten elf piped up when Harry nodded.

"I can probably get a pass from magic for Hermione," Dumbledore said. "I could also make reusable portkeys that, instead of a specific destination, connect to each other. I can also teach you magic to defend yourself, and ward your room within a few days."

At Harry's nod, Dumbledore began to turn, but Harry called for him before he finished. "Yes, Harry? What is it?" He asked, looking very tired.

"I just wanted to know if I could change my classes to the courses Hermione is taking," Harry asked. To the three adults and Hermione, it appeared as though he was just doing this to spend time with his girlfriend. Harry, however, knew that he had wanted to learn as much as possible, but had, subconsciously, still been afraid of the Dursleys, and of pushing his first friend away. Now that he could fight the Dursleys, his friendship with Ron was shattered, and Hermione had wanted him to do that in the first place, he was confident that he could do it without being punished or pushing someone important to him away.

Dumbledore, however, did not know this, and was hesitant to agree. "Harry, are you sure you could handle such a class load?" He asked, concerned.

"Yes, sir," Harry responded confidently.

"Harry, not to be rude," Dumbledore began delicately, "but your grades are roughly average, and I'm not sure you could handle that many classes."

"Ah," said Harry, suddenly looking nervous and flighty. "Um...well..."

"Harry?" Hermione prodded, giving his arm a slight squeeze.

He looked towards his girlfriend, drawing strength from the concern in her eyes. After basking in it for a moment, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and, with his eyes still closed, answered, "My grades are...fudged. If they were above Dudley's by too much, I was...punished."

Emma, Dan, and Hermione watched Dumbledore's face become enraged, and it reassured them that he was not being malicious about placing Harry with the Dursleys. However, his voice betrayed none of this as he gently asked, "Punished how?" His voice was also laced with a mild compulsion charm, since the little he knew about victims of abuse was that they would not want to talk about it.

The compulsion charm was, apparently, enough, as Harry answered hesitantly, "Th-they waited for the first break from school. As soon as Uncle Vernon got home, he twisted my arm behind my back, dislocating it." As Harry spoke, his voice grew monotonous and detached. "He dragged me by that arm into his room and proceeded to beat me with a studded belt, yelling about using my 'freakishness' to outdo his 'Dudders.' When I had finally lost my voice from begging him to stop," Emma and Hermione sobbed, Dan snarled, and Dumbledore looked like he was concentrating very hard on not losing his temper, "He threw me into my cupboard and locked me in there for a week."

Still speaking gently since Harry's eyes were still closed, Dumbledore asked, "Your cupboard?"

"Yes, sir," Harry answered. "My room was a cupboard under the stairs until I got my first letter from Hogwarts."

"Thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "I think I will depart now. May I bring the pass for magic tomorrow around, say, noon?" He asked, receiving nods from the other adults. "Good day," he responded to the nods, before disapparating with a single thought in mind.

_I think it's about time I visit the Dursleys._

* * *

**A/N: As usual, thanks go to Inzainiac for making this readable, assuming that that's even a word.**

**I know that some people will ask, "How will they get back after portkeying to each other?" Don't worry, I have the answer. Unfortunately, I never intended to have this many stories going at the same time, so it will take a little while.**

**On a side note, has anyone accepted my challenge yet?**


	3. Arrangements

The room was silent after Dumbledore left; three of the four people were struggling to dampen their rage and sadness, while the fourth was ashamed. Of course, Harry had no reason to be ashamed, but victims of violent and/or mentally scarring crimes are hard to convince. Especially with words.

Fortunately, Harry Potter had a secret weapon; his new girlfriend and best friend for two years, the very intelligent Hermione Granger. After first year, Hermione had looked up victim psychology. Frustratingly, there was very little to be found, and some even she couldn't understand. The basic fact that she knew was, victims tend to blame themselves, and children were even worse, since they tend to have it quite literally beaten into them. The other basic fact she knew was that Harry Potter believed that actions spoke louder than words. So instead of offering words of comfort that she was fairly certain he would dismiss, she pushed the dark feelings that thoughts of the Dursleys summoned and pulled him into a hug that clearly said she had no intention of letting him go for a while. She got a tentative smile as a reward. Smiling warmly back, she gave him a gentle kiss, completely forgetting her parents were there.

The only thing that saved Hermione from an embarrassing chewing out by her parents was that both parents were still a bit shocked by everything, and couldn't really find it in them to complain about a comforting kiss-especially since it had been so chaste. Though Emma decided that she _would_ be having a talk with her daughter later on.

* * *

Dumbledore silently appeared on the doorstep of #4 Privet Drive, casting notice-me-not charms almost before he fully appeared. Satisfied that he would be unseen, he rang the doorbell, waiting. A few moments later, Petunia opened the door. Seeing Dumbledore there, she promptly slammed the door in his face. Sighing, Dumbledore calmly reached over and opened the door. "Thank you for inviting me in," he said calmly to the shocked Petunia.

Recovering, Petunia pointed to the door, simply saying firmly, "Out!"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at being spoken to as though he were a dog, but mostly ignored it. Looking around, he saw Dudley in the living room, staring at him in horror. Ignoring that, Dumbledore brushed past Petunia, heading into the hallway, stopping when he saw the cupboard under the stairs. Hesitantly, not really sure that he wanted to discover the truth, Dumbledore reached over and pulled the door open.

Or, rather, he tried to. A rather pale Petunia Dursley made it over in time to hold the door closed. "You were not invited in and I told you to leave," she said firmly, though her voice did contain a slight quaver. "Please do so."

"I will," Dumbledore replied, "when I have discovered how you have treated your nephew." He noticed that the woman's face paled further, hardening his resolve. Pulling his wand, he vanished the door, and cast a simple _lumos_. The sight before him left him feeling sick. A tiny cot, with numerous bloodstains on it, took up most of the space in the cupboard. With a thunderous expression, he demanded, "How could you treat your own nephew this way?"

Petunia may have been afraid, but, rather ironically, she showed a Gryffindor bravery in snapping back, "We put a roof over his head, and clothes on his back. The freak should be grateful. We never wanted him anyway."

"Grateful?" Dumbledore thundered. The last time he'd been this angry had been after seeing three muggle boys beating up his sister for a display of accidental magic. "His parents were murdered, his godfather betrayed them and ended up in prison, his godmother was tortured into insanity, and he should be grateful for being abused?"

"You never asked what we wanted!" Petunia snapped back. "He was just left on our doorstep without so much as a by your leave!"

"You were his last option! The law states that he must go to his godfather, if the godfather is unavailable, then his godmother, and if both are unavailable, then his next-of-kin, you! There was no option!"

"That may be true, but you could have at least stuck around to explain it! Or given us money to help!"

"We could not be seen," Dumbledore hissed. "And judging from the sight of your son, you had plenty!"

"How dare you!" Petunia seethed, not really able to say anything else, just infuriated at the insult to her Dudders.

"How dare you!" Dumbledore snapped back. "If you and Vernon had been killed, leaving Dudley to be raised by your sister, would she have treated him the way you treated Harry?"

Finally, Petunia actually seemed ashamed of herself. She knew that Lily would never have let that happen.

Dumbledore took advantage of her silence to regain control of himself. "Regardless of the abominable way you have treated your nephew, he is safest from Dark Wizards here, and therefore, must return. Show me to his room," he demanded. (He knew from the Weasleys that he had been rescued from a room with bars on the window, though he had thought it an exaggeration at the time.)

Having been verbally beaten into submission, (and knowing that wands could do terrible things if the owner desired) Petunia meekly complied.

Even before the door was open, Dumbledore felt sick at the numerous locks and the cat flap on the door. Hesitant once more, Dumbledore opened the door. Fortunately, it wasn't too bad inside. A bit cramped and dingy, but no bloodstains or anything of that sort, for which Dumbledore was relieved.

Waving his wand, he vanished all the broken trash, causing Petunia to jump and let out a squeak. She really wanted to say or do something, but instead she turned and went back downstairs. Dumbledore allowed himself a satisfied smirk before getting back to work. He put a very powerful space expansion charm on the room, followed by transfiguring the bed into something more comfortable. He then proceeded to transfigure a few broken items he missed into the magical equivalent of a fridge and stove, since nothing electronic would work in the magically modified room, now. As a final step, he vanished the locks and the cat flap, followed by a muggle-repelling charm on the door. He took one last look around the room before dropping what appeared to be a rock in the middle of the floor and walking down the stairs.

He paused in the hallway to turn the cupboard space a solid wall, bid the Dursleys a frosty goodbye, removed the notice-me-not charms from the front step, and apparated to the Ministry. After all, he still had things to do.

* * *

"Come on, Harry, I want to show you my room," Hermione said, jumping up.

Dan's face paled drastically, and Emma couldn't help but laugh at his look of terror. "Relax, dear, they're only twelve," she said comfortingly.

Hermione flushed a bright red as she realized how her father had taken her words. "DA-AD!"

"I'm sorry, but in my defense, we _were_ recently talking about me giving your boyfriend 'the Talk,'" Dan defended himself.

Hermione just muttered something unintelligible under her breath before pulling Harry up the stairs. Harry himself kept darting nervous glances at Hermione's parents (mostly her father) as she dragged him up the stairs. He only stopped once they could no longer be seen by the adults.

Like Harry's room, Hermione's was directly to the left of the stairs. Unlike Harry's room, it wasn't dark and gloomy with broken junk everywhere and a lumpy mattress. It was well-lit, with sky blue walls. The wall directly across from him was covered with bookshelves, to the left was Hermione's bed, to the right, there was a television on top of two dressers with bookshelves on either side, and a smaller bookshelf was on one side of the doorway, with a closet on the other side. The number of bookshelves (and the fact that every one of them was filled with books) caused Harry to shake his head and quip, "I think you have more books than my local library."

Hermione blushed, very tempted to playfully smack him. However, she knew it wouldn't be well received, and simply shook her head. "And this is without any magical books on display," she answered.

"Why not?" Harry asked curiously.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "If any of my parents friends come over, I can't exactly have a book entitled _Quidditch Through the Ages_ on display, can I?"

"Again, why not? It's not like people are going to scan your bookshelves," Harry pointed out reasonably.

"Actually, some people do," Hermione responded.

"Oh," Harry said. Really, what was he supposed to say to that? "So where do you keep your magical books?" He asked lamely.

"In my school trunk," Hermione answered, eyeing him. He seemed even more withdrawn than usual after the conversation downstairs, and, even though she didn't blame him, it still worried her. "Let me show you where you'll be staying," she said instead of pressuring him into talking about it.

Harry nodded agreeably, following behind as he examined the pictures adorning the walls in the hallway. The guest room was at the opposite end of the house from Hermione's room, (which he suspected Hermione's father, at least, was grateful for) but set up exactly the same way. Including the paintjob, bookshelves, and television. Not having the tools to deal with the thought of staying in such a nice room, Harry teasingly asked, "How many of these books are yours?"

Despite the teasing note, Hermione thought she saw the glimmer of a tear in her boyfriend's eye. The fact that he was tearing up made her angry and sad, but that didn't stop her blush as she mumbled just loud enough for Harry to hear, "All of them."

"Do you mind if I read them?" Harry asked, all teasing gone, and more than a hint of longing in his voice.

"Of course," Hermione answered. "But I thought you didn't like reading?"

"No, I do," Harry answered. "Did you know that I actually read all of the First Year textbooks before school, like you did? Hedwig was a name in our History book."

Hermione was silent for a moment as she processed what she learned. _So, the Dursleys beat into him to behave the way they wanted him to behave. Then, when he comes to Hogwarts, he's so desperate for friends-again, because of the Dursleys-that he acts the same way for the first person he comes across who acts friendly._ "No, I didn't know that," Hermione answered softly as her mind finished processing.

Harry just nodded silently, gazing around the room. Finally, Hermione broke the silence, "Well, come on, let's get you unpacked."

"But I'm not staying," Harry pointed out sadly.

"You're staying for at least a few days, so we're going to get your stuff unpacked," Hermione plowed on, undeterred. "Besides, we can always pack back up using magic."

"You can do that?" Harry asked, wondering if she did that at Hogwarts.

"Well, no," Hermione admitted, deflating a little bit. "But I can look it up," she said, a determined glint once more shinning in her eyes.

Harry smiled at the familiar determination of his best friend and went downstairs to get his trunk. He paused for a moment when he heard the adults talking in the kitchen, but decided not to eavesdrop and simply grabbed his trunk and went back upstairs.

* * *

Had Harry stayed downstairs and eavesdropped, he would have heard the Grangers talking about him.

"So what do you honestly think about him?" Emma Granger asked her husband.

Dan sighed. "I'd like him better if he wasn't dating our daughter. I mean, she's only thirteen, and he's not even that, yet!"

"True," Emma admitted with her own sigh. "But Hermione's always been mature for her age, and Harry seems to be as well. Plus, he _did_ leap to protect her without any hesitation whatsoever."

This, of course, earned another sigh from Dan. "I know," he admitted. "But I wasn't prepared for this for at least a few years! And even then, I never expected to give her suitor the talk! How am I supposed to deal with giving a boy the guidebook to women when the woman he is interested in is my daughter?" His voice had steadily grown higher and louder as he continued, until he was almost yelling. Fortunately, the laughter coming from upstairs indicated that he hadn't been heard.

Emma smiled wryly as she jokingly answered, "Get really, really drunk?"

Dan mock-glared at her for her cheekiness, before a smirk made his wife worried. "You know I'll have to punish you for that later, right?"

Emma blushed crimson, before she remembered something she had seen earlier while Dobby was here. Fortunately for Dan's sanity, Emma decided against mentioning that Hermione might like some notes for ideas. Instead, she cheekily asked, "Is that in preparation for your talk?"

"Actually, it was an attempt to distract myself from that, so thanks," he grumbled-only partially in jest.

"You're welcome!" She replied cheerfully.

Dan's only response was another glare-this one a bit less playful than his previous one.

* * *

Upstairs, Harry and Hermione were unpacking. Or, rather, they were supposed to be unpacking. At one point, when Harry reached into his trunk to unpack, Hermione got a wicked grin on her face, grabbed a pillow off the bed, and hit her boyfriend in the back of the head. At first, he had flinched, but once he realized what she had done, he got his own grin, grabbed one of the other pillows off of the bed, and hit her back. She tried to glare at him, but her giggles were too powerful, so she hit him back, instead. It quickly dissolved into a pillow fight involving lots of laughs. The pillow fight got abandoned when Hermione realized Harry was kicking her butt, and decided to see if he was ticklish. His feeble attempts at pushing her away while he laughed his head off answered that question, and made her practically giddy at the happy light in Harry's eyes.

The one-sided tickle fight was interrupted by a throat being cleared, startling the two pre-teens, who whirled around to find Dumbledore smiling at them from the bedroom doorway. "It is nice to see the two of you behaving like children," Dumbledore commented warmly as he stepped further into the room.

Harry nodded, but Hermione wasn't happy with the man who left her Harry to be abused by those monsters, and responded bitterly, "Maybe Harry would have acted more like a child if he'd had more of a childhood."

Dumbledore winced, but nodded in agreement. "Indeed, Ms. Granger. I don't think I'll be able to make up for that."

"No," Hermione said, still angrily glaring at the Headmaster, "You won't."

Harry stared at Hermione in awe; it was obvious to anyone that she was nearly worshipful of authority figures, and one doesn't get any higher as an authority figure than Dumbledore. Dumbledore was also, staring at her, but he had a smile on his face, thinking that Harry had chosen someone very well suited to him. He shook his head to try and get himself back on topic.

"Yes, well, that's not why I'm here," the ancient alchemist said. "I am here because I have solved all of the issues you, Harry, asked me to. Well, except for teaching you some combat spells."

"I thought you said you'd be here around noon tomorrow?" Harry inquired since Hermione still looked angry.

Albus nodded. "Indeed, I thought it would be quite difficult for me to get an exemption from under-age magic for Miss Granger since she is a muggleborn, but apparently she is well recognized as being one of your friends, so it went far swifter than I thought. Since none of the rest involved the Ministry as I am authorized to make portkeys, I decided to come early."

"Thank you, professor," Harry said politely.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione bit off through clenched teeth.

Dumbledore ignored the tone, as he knew it was justified, and pulled out two watches. As usual in the wizarding world, these weren't normal watches. They were, instead, like the Weasley's family clock in that they had names on the hands. In the case of these watches, there was only one hand, one with Harry, and the other with Hermione, making it safe to assume that the one for Harry had Hermione's name on it, and vice versa. Like the Weasley family clock, it had _School, Work, Travelling, Lost, Hospital, Prison, Quidditch, _and _Mortal Peril_. However, instead of _Home_, it had _Ganger's_ and _Dursley's,_ as well as _Library_-which caused Harry to smirk-and _Relaxing_. "I thought you might appreciate these watches, which are also the portkeys I mentioned." He handed one to Harry, and one to Hermione, along with a small stone with runes carved on it. "These portkeys are my own design; you can portkey to each other by saying that person's name followed by 'portkey', and to portkey to the runestones, say, 'return portkey'."

"Thanks, professor," Harry said, still politely.

"Thanks," Hermione said, still a bit bitter, but slightly calmer.

Dumbledore waved the thanks away, and continued to explain the watches. "If you want to add another person, have them press a forefinger to the back of the watch; this will draw a drop of blood, adding them to the watch. Also, it may interest you to know that, after the first use, the watches will attune themselves to your magical signature, preventing anyone else from using them."

"Thank you, again, professor," Harry said again, starting to feel a bit repetitive.

"That sounds useful," Hermione said, attempting to push down her bitterness, but largely failing.

Dumbledore quirked a brief, sad, smile in acknowledgement of Hermione's defensiveness of Harry, but otherwise continued to ignore it. "Starting tomorrow, I'll teach you a few defensive spells at noon for a week, at which point I believe you'll be able to adequately defend yourself from your relatives, Harry," the old professor informed the, the sadness flashing across his face once more. The two pre-teens nodded, said goodbye, and watched Dumbledore vanish.

* * *

The rest of the night passed as it usually did for the Granger's; Dan and Emma asked their daughter about her year, Hermione told them about everything, including life-threatening situations, they tried to get her to leave Hogwarts, and she refused.

"Why not?" Harry asked, confused by her refusal to leave. He probably would have, himself, if he'd had anywhere else to go.

"Because I still want to learn magic," Hermione answered, looking confused as to why he would even ask.

"Aren't there other magical schools?" Emma jumped in.

"Yes, but Hogwarts is the best," Hermione replied.

"Are you sure?" Surprisingly, the question came from Harry.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, followed closely by her parents.

"Think about it," Harry started, "Binns puts almost everyone to sleep in History, Snape is completely unprofessional in potions, Muggle Studies is at least fifty years behind the times, most people think the Divination professor is a fraud, the brooms for flying lessons badly need to be replaced, and of the two Defense teachers we've had, one was possessed by Voldemort and tried to kill me, while the other was definitely a fraud and tried to completely wipe my mind. That's six out a total twelve classes that are substandard, and I don't know anything about three of them. Herbology, Charms, and Transfiguration are the only classes I can say for certain that are above standard."

Hermione had to admit, when put that way, it was rather damning, and Emma agreed, but it was Dan who responded first. "So you mean to tell me that the line about it being the 'finest school of witchcraft and wizardry' is a load of tripe?"

"Not quite," Harry said thoughtfully, "I think they just omitted that it was the best in Britain. And it's just _so_ difficult to be the best when you're the only one competing," Harry finished sarcastically.

"Maybe we can use that," Hermione said thoughtfully.

Three heads swiveled towards her in confusion. "What are you thinking 'Mione?" Harry asked.

"Have you ever wondered why my parents never pulled me out of Hogwarts?" Hermione asked him.

Knowing this seeming non-sequitur probably had a point somehow, Harry played along. "Not really. To be honest, I usually forget that most people have adults that care what happens to them." Harry was silently thankful that the Grangers chose to ignore that-at least for now.

"Right," Hermione said through clenched teeth. She took a moment to relax herself before explaining, "In point of fact, my parents _can't_ withdraw me; Dumbledore acts in _loco parentis_ for all muggleborn students and orphans without magical guardians. The only exception to this is leaving Hogwarts, where the decision is entirely up to the student. I haven't left, in spite of all the dangerous situations, for three reasons; one, I really wanted to learn magic. Two, I believed it to be the best magical school, but you just shot that out of the water. And three, I wanted to be close to you."

"I'll go wherever you go," Harry said immediately, causing all three Grangers to smile. The adults were just silently watching the interplay.

"I know," Hermione said with a smile, "And that brings me to my next point; Dumbledore seems to want you close to him. If you threaten to leave, I think he'll do anything to try and keep you at Hogwarts."

By this point, Harry had cottoned on, and finished her thought with a smile, "So I can force him to clean up the school. Absolutely brilliant."

Hermione gave him a smile, though only Emma noticed the slight pink tinge to her cheeks at the compliment. "Exactly," Hermione said. "Admittedly, we don't know who is teaching DADA this year, but Binns should be easy to replace, any muggleborn could teach Muggle Studies, and they should be able to replace the brooms for flying lessons. I don't know how someone is qualified to teach Divination, so I can't comment on that, but potions is the tricky point. I get the feeling that Snape is in the castle for some reason beyond teaching potions, so we need to get Dumbledore to either force him to act professionally and fairly, or get a new potions master while Dumbledore probably hires him for personal reasons. The first one is probably the best option, as he won't be able to bait you."

"How can Dumbledore force Snape to act professionally and fairly?" Emma asked, her curiosity getting the better of watching the two supposed children plan to manipulate their Headmaster.

"Have him take a magical vow," Harry answered. "If he swears on his magic and his life to act professionally an fairly to all students, his magic will enforce it. He will, quite literally, be unable to break it."

"Nifty," Dan commented. "It's a good thing you don't have to worry about anyone breaking their word in the magical world."

"It is nice," Harry agreed.

"Alright, well, Dumbledore should be here around noon tomorrow, so we can put out plan into action then," Hermione said after a moment of silence. "For now, I vote that we got to sleep."

"Agreed," Harry said.

"Indeed, I'm rather tired as well," Emma said. Dan just nodded.

* * *

Despite her words, Hermione found herself unable to sleep. No matter how hard she tried, her mind kept drifting to the Dursleys and the fact that it was Dumbledore who placed Harry there, apparently without a reliable means of checking up on him. It made her so mad! But it also explained Harry to her better.

He was so nice, and she began to wonder why he had allowed Ron to treat her the way she did. She had wondered why he was so quick to put his life on the line for someone he barely knew. And she had wondered why he was so distrustful of adults. In first year, she had wondered why it took so much urging on her part to go to McGonagall. Now she knew.

He allowed Ron to treat her that way because he was afraid of standing up to people and he didn't want to lose his first friend. He was so quick to put his life on the line because he had never been given a sense of self-worth. And he was so distruftful of adults because the most frequent adults in his life hurt him, and the others-whoo should have been _trained_ to look for that sort of thing-did nothing to help. And, unfortunately, her urging him to go to McGonagall in first year had probably reinforced that since she had done nothing.

_Well,_ she thought with fierce determination, _I'll have to change all of that. I'll show him that some adults can be trusted by going to my parents with problems in front of him. I'll force him to realise he has worth. And I've already started to get him to stand up to people today, I just need him to realise that, if he's going to stand up for someone, it can't just be against the physical. My main problem in future years, though, _she thought with a blush, _is going to be trying to get him to take control. He's too noble to do it without direction, which would ruin the whole point. How do I go about it?_

She fell asleep to thoughts of getting Harry to be more dominant and assertive.

* * *

Like Hermione, Harry was also awake and thinking about the past. His past, though, was only about a month away, the day that Hermione got petrified. It wasn't until that day that he had realized just how important Hermione was to him, and then he had spent the entire time while she was petrified debating with himself. Did he tell her how he felt? What if it ruined their friendship? What if she felt the same? It wasn't until he'd faced the basilisk that he realized he would rather know than spend all of his time until death wondering what could have been.

He couldn't stop the smile as he remembered that day in the Hospital Wing, and how all of his fears had been quashed when Hermione, too his surprise and glee, had turned around in his arms and kissed him. He couldn't remember ever being happier, and it was that giddy happiness that was keeping him awake now.

It took another hour of imagining the future before Harry fell asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed!**


	4. I'm On My Way

Yes, I'm still here! I apologize for the long delay - my days jumped from a little over 40 hours a week to a minimum of 60, and occasionally over 70. Last week I worked over 80! But I have now changed jobs and am back to a fairly even schedule of 40 hours a week. On the downside, I had all of my files saved here on FanFiction because my computer kept crashing, and because I've been away for so long, it's all gone. I hope to review/rewrite what I have in my posted stories, and start writing the next chapters in my stories within the next 2-3 weeks, and I hope to have something posted within the next 2 months. Keep your fingers crossed!

Proud Mudblood


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